Never Say Goodbye
by Flipper Boid Skua
Summary: Two orphaned Infected babies are adopted by a pair of wacky Survivor friends. Rated for some gore and language. R&R Pleaz!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead. If I did, I'd be busy making it into a movie or something instead of writing this!

Now I don't know if it's possible for Infected to have children, but for the sake of this story, let's say they can! This takes place in the original Left 4 Dead universe, as I'm not too fond of the second one.

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

Weeping. That was the only sound that came from her throat. It was the only sound that warded off her lesser brothers and sisters from approaching her, that kept _anyone_ from approaching her. And she had a very good reason to want everyone to keep their distance. Not only was her kind naturally anti-social, with their murderous rage activated whenever startled by anything, but she held treasure in her shuddering hold. No, although shinies were attractive to the eye, her treasure was not of that sort. Movement gave away that her possession was of a living nature. A squeak came from the tiny bundle and it nuzzled under her claws. It was a Hunter pup, one of four snuggled against their mother's body, safe in her grasp. The massive foot long daggers, so deadly in nature, was caringly gentle as the Witch stroked along the curious pup's back.

The other pups were stirring from their sleep as well, yipping and tumbling as they began to disperse from their parent to explore the alleyway that was their home. The Witch, although it didn't seem like it through her sobbing, kept a protective watch over her children, making sure they didn't wander too far for her liking. She never wanted them out of her reach, just in case danger should materialize out of nowhere. When a pup did begin to explore near the set boundaries, the Witch would stop her cries enough to reach out and gently pull the curious bundle back. The pup in question would whine and whimper before resuming its investigations like nothing happened. Infantile squeaks rose from the pups as their exploring turned to playing as they instinctively attempted to stalk and pounce each other. But given that they barely had the balance to stand on two legs for any length of time, their attempts were...useless, to say the least.

More movement, and it wasn't from the pups. Maternal instincts starting up, the Witch was already growling softly with each breath and, hearing the alarm, the pups scurried into a turned-on-its-side cardboard box just behind their mother. The movement materialized as a silhouette and it crouched low on all fours, giving a soft growl back. The Witch began to growl louder as the intruder slunk closer and calmed instantly when the shadow gave a familiar bark. Her mate. Relaxing completely, the Witch resume her sobs as the Hunter approached with a furrything in his mouth. He didn't take the earlier hostility personally as he knew it was necessary. Other Infected would love to get their claws into the pups, to eliminate the competition and gain some extra sustenance. Commons were especially dangerous, as they were too mindless to discriminate what they eat. They already lost their only daughter to one, before the enraged mother tore the lesser Infected into an unrecognizable mass of blood and gore.

Sensing the danger as a false alarm, the pups stumbled out of the box to greet their father, especially eager that he has food. The Hunter growled softly as he sat on his heels and lifted the dangling furrything just out of the pups reach. They were still too young and tiny to learn how to hunt on their own, but might as well get them used to having to work for their food. The pups whined some more, jumping and stumbling over themselves, still too clumsy to really master the art of leaping. The Hunter eventually lowered the furrything and the pups grabbed hold with each of their little mouths, giving little high-pitched growls as they all tried to yank the food from their father's hold. The Hunter kept hold, not at all budged by his offsprings' efforts but encouraging them just the same. Giving a growl back, he lifted a clawed hand and gently began to push back each baby before finally relinquishing the food. As they ate, the Hunter turned his attention to his mate, purring as he slinked closer so not to startle her.

She made no move to attack, even going so far as to stop her sobbing as her mate nuzzled her neck and cheek gently, still purring. She gave a gentle shakey purr back as she leaned against his affections, enjoying the scent and warmth of his body. She couldn't control her sobs, but she cried less whenever her mate was around to love and protect her and their children. Whenever he left to hunt, it was her sole duty to defend the little ones and that's when she wept the most. Not only to ward off danger, but because she never knew when or if her mate was ever going to return. Hunting was dangerous business, especially when it involved foodthings and their boomsticks. But these risks were needed. While adult Infected can go for days or even weeks without food, the young ones needed it constantly to fuel their growing bodies. Unluckily, or perhaps luckily, foodthings were rare to come by, so they had to make do with the many furrythings and featherythings still populating the dead city.

Feeling her mate lay down and curling around her as the pups returned to their parents for attention and to be groomed by their father, she felt content through her natural sorrow, despite the distant sound of familiar thunder that began to make itself known.

The thunder was, in fact, the sound of boomsticks coming from the opposite side of the city. The Smoker watched from atop a building as four foodthings fought their way through a horde, his milky eye narrowing as they advanced. There were two groups of foodthings that arrived in the city recently, but seperately: this group containing three males and a female; and the other group which consisted of just two females. Although he was naturally inclined to pursue the smaller, less threatening group, he knew this herd was the one he needed to focus on. For he was not hunting at the moment, he was protecting. These foodthings were getting closer and closer to where his family was hidden, and he was not pleased with this development at all. These foodthings just needed to step in the wrong direction and his children would be in mortal danger, as they had no mother stationed to protect them.

Shattered memories surfaced in his diseased mind. He was out hunting when his mate, a beautiful Witch, has been shot down by foodthings while defending their offspring; it was only by dumb luck that the foodthings didn't notice the little ones huddled in the shadows. After the discovery, the brokenhearted Smoker made no hesitation in relocating their home to what was hoped to be a safer part of the city. And now, this was happening.

Giving a growl that soon turned to a wheezing cough, he followed the foodthings' progress. Although they shouted, he paid no mind to their words. To him, it was all senseless noise that he no longer understood, and so made no effort to interpret. Careful to stay out of view, he jumped down onto a fire escape, hissing softly as the foodthings turned into the alley where he could see his young ones hiding in the farthest corner from the intruders. This was close enough. Parental instinct outweighing any and all caution, the father gave a raspy scream of anger and shot his tongue down to snag one of the foodthings. The slimy, muscular appendage wrapped around what he deemed the greatest threat: the large male with markings all over its arms. Bracing himself, the Smoker yanked and pulled, reeling in the foodthing as it squirmed and yelled to the others.

However, before he can pull the foodthing close enough to claw it to death, he felt pain as his tongue was shot and snapped, freeing the foodthing which landed on the ground with a heavy _thud_. Knowing he's practically defenseless at this point, the Smoker turned and climbed back up the wall as fast as he could, feeling that the boomsticks were missing him by mere inches. Atop the building once more and safe out of range, he didn't wait for his tongue to grow back as he ran across the roof. Despite this retreat, he was far from abandoning his offspring. Succeeding in safely moving around the food things, he jumped down to the ground at the end of the alley, kneeling down in front of a baby Witch and a baby Smoker, his daughter and son. He was urging them to hide behind a dumpster when he heard the boomstick and felt the pain as his arm was grazed. Crying out harshly, he looked over his shoulder to see the foodthing he snared. With his constant smoke cloud hovering around him, he had been easily spotted and pursued.

Coughing and wheezing in warning, he stood up and faced the foodthing. He stood no chance, instinct told him that, but giving up was never an option. He tensed as the foodthing charged and swiped at it when it got in range. He felt his claws tear through flesh, but didn't really do much damage. The foodthing swung the boomstick in retaliation, hitting him straight in the gut. The Infected wheezed as he felt what little air he had get knocked right out of his damaged lungs. Swiping feebly as he recovered, he gotten a few more slashes in before the foodthing's boomstick struck him first in the chest, then the side, and as he keeled over in pain, right at the back of his head. Dazed, he collapsed, gasping. Vision swimming, the last thing he heard was the whimpering cries of his children and the bang of the boomstick.

Hidden and pressed against the wall and dumpster as best they could, the baby Smoker and Witch watched, horrified as their lone parent was brought down and killed right in front of their eyes. A huge cloud of smoke came from their daddy's body and the foodthing started coughing and backed off. The Smoker child wanted to make a run for it while they still can and tugged at his sister's arm to get her to follow. But she didn't budge, crying a lot more than usual. Coughing in a high voice, the Smoker kept trying to move his sister, but it was too late. Whimpering as the protective cloud began to thin, he pressed harder against the wall as the foodthing shouted something and before long, all four foodthings towered above them. Casting glances to the motionless body of their father, as if hoping he'd somehow get back up to defend them, the young Smoker gave as threatening growl as he could manage as he stood by his sister, whom was still sobbing as if nothing else in the world mattered.

The foodthings spoke, obviously not threatened by the youngster's infantile growls. The Smoker tried desperately to fight the urge to run, not when he had his sister to protect. But that quickly changed as the foodthings stopped talking and the big, marked one pointed its boomstick at his sister. There was a loud bang and the Smoker child jumped as his sister practically exploded, covering him and the surrounding area with blood and scattered pieces of flesh and guts. On reflex, the Smoker shot out his tongue, wrapping it around the foodthing's foot. But he wasn't strong enough to even budge the giant and another bang sounded. He jumped again and cried in pain as his tongue broke. Sobbing to the point that would make his sister jealous, the baby immediately took off running, stumbling and tripping as he was barely accustomed to moving so fast. He could hear the boomstick going off some more and he screamed as more than a few nearly hit him. Falling in a stumble, the Smoker crawled off on hands and knees into a hiding place amongst some boxes. He tried not to breathe or cough and vaguely hoped the green cloud that always accompanied him didn't give him away.

It was still for a long time and the baby Smoker peeked out of his hiding place, sniffling and finally having the little coughing fit he's been holding back. Looking about, he saw it was all clear. Whimpering, he crawled out and stood shakily on his little legs, looking terribly confused as to what to do next. Gripping his newly grown tongue in nervousness, he wandered back the way he came, following the scent of daddy and his sister. Jittery from his recent traumatizing encounter, he panicked and froze every time he heard something and because of this, it took him quite a while to reach his dark alley home. Looking at his daddy's body, he cooed and whimpered along with his natural coughs as he explored the corpse for signs of any life at all. Nothing. He gave a soft cry and paused, as if expecting his father to answer it, and he nudged his parent's body hard when he still wasn't given a response.

After many minutes of poking and prodding and crying, his little mind finally accepted the fact that his daddy was gone. His mommy was gone. His sister was gone. And now his daddy was gone. They're all gone.

He was all alone in this big and dangerous world, without an inkling on what to do or how to survive.

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><p>My first L4D fanfic. In dedication to my best friend. I'm already working on the next chappy and I hope everyone enjoys this little prologue.<p>

**Preview:  
><strong>Introducing the human characters and that's all I'm giving! ^^


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead or anything even remotely referenced in this chapter!

Wow! So many reviews in less than two days! 4 of which came within a span of an hour! I never had that happen before, but I ain't complaining! I love you guys!

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><p><em>Chapter 1<em>

_Two in the chest, one in the head._

Those words chanting through her head, Sparky took aim at every single goddamned zombie that dared got in her way...Which surprisingly, there was none. Still didn't stop the words from chanting in her head anyway. _Two in the chest, one in the head._ That's what her instructor taught her when she was learning to fire weapons before the Infection broke out, when she was training in the Air Force before they discharged her. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, she could remember those words exactly: _"If the enemy's chargin' for ya, take 'im down with a simple method: two in the chest, one in the head. If he still runnin', do it again. If he **still** goin', do it again. If he's still fuckin' goin', just drop your gun and run, 'cause that's some Resident Evil shit right there!"_

How ironic, given the situation mankind's been facing for weeks now. Or had it been months? She's never really bothered looking at a calendar even before the outbreak; one can't really expect her to change that, especially now... She looked to her traveling companion just a few feet from her right side; it was much too risky to go off wandering too far.

"Yo, Rae. Any idea how long it's been since the world went screwy?" Her comrade looked at her and took on a thoughtful look, risking to lower her weapon just a little as she searched her mind for answers. How long _has _it been? Finally, after a few minutes, she came to her all-knowing conclusion:

"Uhhh...I dunno. Does it matter?" She got a shrug in response.

"Not really. Just thought I'd ask."

Sparky and Rae's been pals for a few years now. And for the majority of those years, they never met each other face-to-face before. It all started when Rae left a review on one of Sparky's stories on the internet. Then it turned into an IM chat and that chat turned into a roleplay story between just the two of them and their countless OC characters. And over those years, the RP never died and just kept growing bigger as they added more and more characters. Finally, a meeting was arranged at an amusement park closeby Rae's residence. They finally had the chance to meet their internet friend in person and that's when the Infection chose to spread and wipe out the majority of humanity and replace them with rabid people. How wonderful...

The worse part was the issue of family. Sparky's family was all the way in California, the other side of the freakin' continent! To mock her, her cellphone, equipped with its ready-to-die-in-less-than-five-seconds-of-use batteries, was of no help. Not that her parents ever picked up the phone anyways... And the power probably went out over there too... The fate of Rae's family was unknown as well. When they went to her house, nobody was there. She tried calling the cellphone of her dad, but never really got an answer. Things didn't seem to be going very well at all, but there's little they can do about it. Just gotta keep pressing forward and hope for the best. Being a bit on the pessimistic side, Sparky didn't have much hope on that last part.

_Well, at least I'm not stuck in my room all day, hissing at the sun. Mom would be proud_... She let her thoughts turn into a ramble_. Sis and my bros should be proud too. I'm totally kicking ass. Dad's never proud at anything I do. God...I hate the sun. I'm probably gonna wind up with skin cancer or something, end up looking like those Smokers. Speaking of which_...

She looked around, not liking this situation despite the peace. This should be a relief, but instead it felt wrong. Probably her paranoia speaking, as it won't be the first time, but...

"Don't you find it weird that we hadn't run into anything yet?" she asked.

"I think that's a good thing." Rae answered, skirting around some dead bodies, nose wrinkling a bit from the smell. "It probably means that someone came here before we did."

"Sounds good enough t-" Sparky's words were cut off when she heard a very distinctive shriek. "Aw, crappity crap crappers..." She spoke too soon. All she had time for was to tense as she was tackled and knocked to the ground, pinned by the Hunter. Although she was seeing stars, she instinctively tried to get the Infected off, but it was of no use. He was too heavy and too strong and now he was clawing at her black GIR shirt, trying to reach flesh. Knowing she'll need help, she gave the alarm for just this situation: "RAAAAAPPPPEEEE!"

The alarm was hardly needed as Rae was already to the rescue, charging the Hunter and slamming into his side, freeing her friend. Both reacting fast, they pointed their weapons at the predator and opened fire. Two in the chest, one in the head. Bastard's down. Rae turned back to her friend and held out a helping hand. Catching her breath from her massive adrenaline rush, Sparky accepted the hand and stood up, wasting not a moment in looking down at her shirt. It had a few slashes, but nothing too revealing, thankfully.

"Zotz dammit," she cursed. "This was my favorite shirt and Hoodie Dude had to tear it up." This got an eye roll and chuckle from her friend.

"Well, that's what happens when you wear it during a zombie apocalypse."

"Hey, if I'm gonna kill zombies, I want the last thing they see to be the almighty GIR, okay?" After a few seconds, Sparky gave a smile. "Thanks for saving me, buddy!"

"You're welcomes!" No sooner was that sentence finished than they heard more growls. Not Hunters this time. Great, looks like their gunfire attracted the attention of a horde. Side-by-side, weapons at the ready for when the Commons appear, they were ready to go down fighting.

"Ready to seriously kick some ass, Master of Milkshakes?" Sparky asked, catching sight of the horde. It wasn't very big, probably about a couple dozen zombies. Seems whoever passed by didn't leave too much action behind. She didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed.

"Totally ready, Queen of the Almighty Donuts! First one to use a pipebomb loses!"

With that exchange of words and nicknames to lift their spirits and get them in the game, they fired at the horde mercilessly. Before the Infection, Sparky didn't think either of them would have the guts to kill another living thing like this. But now it's a matter of life-and-death, and those morals were at least temporarily put on hold. They came to an agreement near the beginning of the Infection not to kill more than necessary. No hunting down a tongueless Smoker to beat the shit out of it or getting out of one's way to crown a Witch for shits and giggles. Plus, no need to put themselves at even more of a risk in doing such stupid things. This wasn't some kind of video game, after all; there were no extra lives to go around...

A few of the Commons managed to get past the line of fire and were treated for their troubles with a few brutal hits upside the head. The two girls tried to ignore any injuries they sustained; individually, each wound wasn't life threatening and, being immune, they had no worries in that department.

"BOOM! Headshot!" Rae exclaimed, unable to help herself as she took out the last of the horde. The whole thing felt like forever, though it probably only lasted a few minutes or something. They really needed to get a break from this life-threatening trauma, at least for the night. "Hey, Sparks, you think there's a safe room anywhere close by?"

"I hope so! My iPod needs charging!" was the response, although that was just Sparky's way of saying: 'Maybe. Let's hurry up then, shall we?' Rae doubted Sparky even still had her iPod. If she did, she never took it out or anything. But that was beside the point. Gathering themselves up, they moved forward in search of a safe room. This time, they weren't going to let their guard down, taking careful steps and keeping their eyes and weapons ready. Sparky will be damned if she were to be 'raped' twice in less than ten minutes, and so kept an eye on the roof-tops as well. It was only about 30 minutes later, a rough estimate on the girls' part, when they heard sobbing.

"Isn't this great..." Rae muttered. A Witch was nearby. But where? Stopping and pressing up against the wall, Sparky following her lead, Rae peeked over the corner into an alleyway and, low and behold, the Witch was sitting there, crying her eyes out. And just beyond her... "Why do Witches always turn up in front of safe rooms? Are they _trying_ to make our lives more difficult?"

"Most likely." Sparky whispered back, shifting a bit past Rae to peek over the corner too. "It's weird how that works, though. It's called fate hating us..."

The Witch seemed to become aware of their presence, as she began growling, much to the girls' surprise. They weren't even that close to her and she was growling already? Rae immediately backed up, bumping into Sparky and still shoving back. Sparky got the hint and hastily retreated with Rae. Out of sight of the Witch, the girls held their breaths as they pressed even tighter against the wall. Last thing they needed was a Witch going berserk on them. They had enough close brushes with death of that nature; they didn't need to add to the collection. But thankfully, to their immense relief, the growling began to subside and the weeping started up again. They let out their breaths.

"So now what?" Sparky asked, always looking to Rae for solutions even though she's the older. Rae was just always better at giving orders and making plans than she was, so Sparky made her leader in her mind, an unspoken job for her friend.

"Isn't it obvious...We have to take her down." That was not a favorable option for them. Not only was it **extremely **dangerous, but...shooting a sobbing person isn't too easy, especially when it's obvious that the said-person just wanted to be left alone. But it had to be done. The Witch was too close to the safe room to sneak around and they couldn't risk going off to search for another safe room. Rae looked to Sparky. "I'm going in. Hand me the Auto Shotgun."

Sparky hugged the shotgun closer, the most clear sign of reluctance on her part. "Maybe I should..."

"No, Sparky. You risked your butt to do it last time, now it's my turn." Rae told her gently, but firmly.

There was no point in arguing; it won't make anything better. Whimpering a bit, Sparky reluctantly handed her friend the shotgun, at the same time, muttering softly. "Whoever invented the 'common courtesy', taking-turns rule needs to screw himself sideways with a spoon." This lightened the mood just a bit and she offered her best friend a smile. "Good luck, Milkshake Master. And be quick, this one seems to get easily annoyed."

"No worries." Making sure the weapon's ready and all, Rae took one last deep breath to calm her nerves. This was serious chizz and she couldn't afford to screw up. Giving a nod to her friend, she went for the Witch quickly, aiming accurately as the Witch was instantly growling and making a move to stand, a move that seems much more at haste than usual. But Rae was ready regardless and squeezed the trigger for a couple of shots. The Witch screamed in furious pain before dropping to the ground, dead. Instantly, movement and high-pitched yelps came up from a cardboard box near the Witch and tiny things scurried out and down the alley clumsily. Rae wasn't expecting that and only watched, dumbfounded as every last one was out of sight.

What the hell?

Sparky wasn't all too sure what to make of it either. It was so unexpected and she wasn't prepared to take a closer look as the tiny things scattered out into the shadows. An awkward silence overtook the area and it was Sparky that broke it with the question harassing both their minds as she walked over to where her friend was standing. "What the fudge was _that_?"

"I have no idea. Rats, maybe? Though I swore, they were wearing hoodies and stuff..."

Sparky and Rae looked at each other for a long moment. Rats in hoodies? That didn't make sense in the slightest unless the Infection overtook the rodents and made them a hell of a lot smarter... Or maybe they weren't rats at all. Maybe...Just maybe...they were...

"Nah!" they both said simultaneously, attempting to laugh it off. Baby Hunters, as if there was such a thing as that. Regardless, they were wasting time out here, increasing the chances of getting caught by an Infected. Best talk about this later or something. Turning in the direction of the safe room, they skirted around the Witch's dead body, each muttering under their breaths about how it wasn't personal, before making sure the safe room's clear and hastily getting inside. Slamming the door shut and securing it, both slumped against the walls and slid down to the floor in utter relief to finally be able to relax, although Sparky was half-expecting a Tank to smash through the door just to mock them.

Either way, they both had their adrenaline rush for today.

Just outside their safe room door, relief was not the best word to use in a description. A Hunter pup scurried across the road as fast as his four little legs could carry him, stumbling repeatedly in clumsiness. He didn't really understand what happened back there. He and his brothers were sleeping, lulled by the reassuring sound of their mother's weeping. Then all of a sudden, a couple loud bangs startled the litter of pups awake and instinct took hold of all of them, driving them out of the cardboard den, out of their alleyway home, and into the world. Under normal circumstances, the pup would be thrilled to be out into city, no doubt having tons of new things to explore. But this was not a normal circumstance. He was terrified and he was going to keep on scurrying until he couldn't scurry anymore.

He didn't know where his brothers were, and that only deepened his instinctive panic. Where was mommy? Where was daddy? ...Where was home? Finally stopping and panting, the pup looked about, shivering in his soft slightly-fluffy coat. Where was he? Naturally, he didn't recognize where he was, and hadn't yet learned that he only needed to retrace his steps to return to the comforting warmth of the den. Whimpering softly, he listened, hoping for the sound of his mother's weeping or his father's growling or his siblings' squeaking. Nothing but the unsettling noises of the other Infected. Instinctively not liking it, he pushed himself to scurry on further, trying his best to stay in the darkest places possible. He didn't understand that this instinctive fear is what's saving his life. Like most children, he did not have a conscious sense of mortality and the concept of his own inevitable death didn't exist to him.

Tired, as he was not used to moving around so much and so fast, plus the added fact that he would normally be sleeping right now, he stopped once more to catch his breath, little tongue sticking out as he panted heavily. Pressing up against the wall, the pup squeaked and whined for comfort, to be groomed, hoping his parents would materialize out of nowhere to carry out the request. Nothing. His limbs were tired and he unceremoniously laid himself down with a little _plop_. This place was not his den and was too open for his liking, but he had nowhere else to go. Sniffling softly, he curled up as tightly as he could, looking for all the world like a round little lump of cloth.

He wasn't even half-asleep yet when he heard a little cough and he stiffened, just barely peeking enough to sniff. An unfamiliar scent filled his little nose and he saw, not two feet away from him, another baby, no older than himself. However, it wasn't one of his brothers, he knew that immediately. It was too lumpy and its coat was hardly a coat at all. It didn't even have a hood. Green smoke came from the newcomer and a long thingy hanged out of its mouth. It took the pup a moment to realize that the mouth thingy was its tongue. How strange.

The baby Smoker hardly knew what to make of the pup either. He's never seen anything like it in his short life. It barely seemed to have a face, he could only make out the nose and mouth. It looked a bit fluffy in its weird looking coat and as the pup shifted a bit out of its curl, he could see weird...thingies around its arms and legs. How strange.

For a long time, neither baby did anything, just watching each other with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. They both knew the other was not family, it was not 'their kind'. But there was some recognizable feature in their scent that linked them both as Infected. The babies didn't understand it at all, as it was much too complicated for them to interpret. The other baby's weird, that's all they could get out of it. Before long, the Hunter pup decided to make the first move and gave a tiny growl, trying to be threatening. The other baby paused for a moment, before deciding not to be bullied and gave a tiny growl back. But it didn't go well and the young Smoker began coughing a bit. The Hunter pup tilted his head at this and leaned a bit closer to sniff some more. Was there something wrong with the other baby?

Well, if there was, instinct told him to take advantage while he still can! He shakily got to his little hands and feet and stalked closer to the Smoker. The long-tongued baby didn't notice this as he went about his coughing fit and when it was finally done, he noticed the pup was a lot closer than before.

"Rawr!" came the 'battle cry' as the pup attempted to pounce. It wasn't much of a pounce at all, but it succeeded in knocking down the other baby, who whined in protest. The pup bit the other baby's arm with a tiny growl and the Smoker yelped and retaliated by indignantly hitting a little fist against his opponent's back. Both wanted to cause damage, but was not very good at it. The baby Smoker wriggled as he continued to hit in defense, eventually succeeding in rolling the little bundle over so he had the pup down this time. He kept fisting the other infant with his free hand, more puffs of smoke coming to show his aggravation of this whole situation. The pup squealed and hissed as he let go of the Smoker's arm and began to squirm in turn, hoping for the tables to be turned yet again.

After a few moments of rolling around in the baby equivalent of viciousness, something began to change. The squeals and yips began to die down and the Hunter pup began batting at the Smoker's tongue like a string, fascinated by its movement. The Smoker stopped hitting the Hunter to stare into space as babies often do, letting the pup bat at his dangling appendage. After a moment, the Hunter pup bit into the tongue with another growl, but this growl was of a much more playful nature. This snapped the Smoker out of it and he looked down at the pup before getting off and sitting beside the other baby, doing nothing to stop the Hunter from playing.

The pup, however, realized the baby Smoker was still there and, unwilling to share his new toy, began to tumble away with the tongue in his mouth. The Smoker watched this, his tongue getting longer before deciding that he wanted his own tongue back. He began to pull it in. The pup yelped in surprise as the tongue pulled him back and he looked over his shoulder to the other baby, who sat there with a pouting expression as he reeled the tongue back. The Hunter squeaked in protest and pulled back, wanting to keep the toy. But even this bout of hostility turned into yet another fun activity and the Hunter began to purr and growl happily at the Tug-a-War game. The Smoker wasn't amused at first, but he soon began to give little happy coughs back. These happy sounds were understood by both babies and their willing game continued for a few minutes before the Smoker began to cough rather violently again and bit down on his tongue by accident. The tongue detached rather easily and the pup yelped as he stumbled off balance and fell over.

Confused, the pup sat back up, the tongue's remains still dangling from his mouth. He tilted his head at the Smoker, who continued to cough for a few more seconds before stopping and realizing that his tongue was gone. Despite having learned that his tongue will grow back soon, he seemed rather distressed about it and began to sniffle and cry. The pup was confused even more, but could smell blood from the baby and from his new toy. And just as the happy sound was understood, the other baby's unhappy sounds seemed universal. Giving a soft whimper in response, the pup made the decision and scurried back to the Smoker baby, dropping the tongue to return it as if that'll fix everything.

The Smoker hiccuped a bit and looked at the tongue, then at the pup, who offered a tiny smile. After a moment, the little Smoker began to smile back.

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><p>Yay, another chapter! I intended this to be done earlier as an Easter present, but we had a party and I couldn't finish it on time, meh... The girls in the beginning are based off my actual friendship with my best friend! Love ya, Rae! And lookie, the baby Smoker and Hunter pup became friends! Anyway, I can't thank all of you guys enough for reviewing so eagerly; I admit, I was way nervous about this story, but yall's encouraging reviews helped ease my nerves. To everyone else, thank you so much for even reading this far into the story; lets me know I'm doing something right! :)<p>

Happy late (by an hour) Easter, everyone!


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I have never, ever owned Left 4 Dead...no matter how much I want to...

I honestly can't thank you guys enough for the support. I honestly get an adrenaline rush of excitement every time I see a review in my inbox. Thank you all so much!

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><p><em>Chapter 2<em>

A strange noise. He's never heard anything like it. It was soft and quick, but very urgent and insistent. The young Smoker gave a soft hum as he began to wake up fully from his rather uneasy nap, stifling a cough as best he could without success as he did so. Rubbing his bright yellow eye, which was slightly glazed with sleepiness, he sat up with a little yawn before looking around for the source of the weird sound. The sound itself wasn't threatening at all; if anything it sounded pleading and a bit desperate. It didn't take too long to realize this new noise was coming from his new friend, who was sitting a couple feet away, facing away from him. Tilting his head a bit, the Smoker gave a confused cough, at which the pup stopped for a moment to glance over his shoulder in acknowledgement before resuming his calls.

It was night, the moon just barely moving past its highest point. Naturally nocturnal, the two didn't mind the darkness and can see perfectly in such low light. It made the little Hunter feel safer, as it will be easier to hide from the attention of strangers, although there was a downside to their night-time schedule: they weren't the only ones awake at this hour. This was peak activity for the other Infected and their chances of being spotted actually increased just for that fact alone. Not to mention the Smoker's green smoke wasn't much help in that department. Of course, all this was beyond the conscious knowledge of the little ones; they still had lots to learn about the world and how to go about living in it. No, they only thought of the here and now in simple terms and for the Hunter pup, it meant he was hungry. He's been awake for about an hour now, mewling into the darkness, still hoping his parents would arrive soon to help. So far, he's gotten no response and his little voice was starting to get a bit hoarse from his efforts.

The Smoker continued to watch his new companion make the weird sounds before looking around distractedly, cooing softly in response to each of the pup's mews. Fiddling with his tongue, he began to feel uneasiness after a few minutes, his instincts noticing the pup's calls gradually getting louder. He did not like that at all. Shifting to his feet, he stood for only a second before a cough sent him back down on his bottom. He sat there, confused for a second as to how he got back in this position, before standing again and toddling over to the pup with a whimper. This got a whimper in response and, wanting to move elsewhere, the little Smoker grasped onto the pup's coat and tugged like he would his sister whenever he wanted her to follow him. The pup didn't move, confused by this and starting to give a little growl at each tug. Coughing insistently, the other baby kept tugging, instinctively curling his tongue around the pup to get him moving. But instead of moving, the pup assumed this was a game and plopped to the floor, rolling over and mouthing the tongue playfully.

Whining and puffing out more smoke, the other infant tried to pull his tongue away, lightly fisting the pup to make him stop. The Hunter only saw this as part of the game, however, and righted himself to 'pounce' on his playmate, sending them back on the ground. The Smoker blinked, even more confused at this before trying to wriggle away in protest. Why was this pup so difficult? Didn't he understand that it was time to go? A playful growl answered that question and the Smoker child felt like giving up, going still and allowing the pup to bite and bat to his heart's content. But playing with a ragdoll was boring and the pup eventually stopped with a questioning tilt of his head. Finally free, the other baby got up and took the easiest course of action: toddling off on his own. Alarmed at being left behind, the pup clumsily stumbled after his friend with a whimper.

Traveling was not something either baby did very often, both having never left the security of home before their individual incidents. Now forced out into the world so suddenly, practically everything was a new experience and the two found that they had different ways of approaching new objects in general. Upon seeing things like cars and streetlights, the young Smoker stayed back in heavy caution, instinct telling him to be wary until he learned that a trash can was not going to lunge to attack, or a Med Kit wasn't going to eat him. The Hunter pup, on the other hand, investigated every new object of interest very thoroughly, feeling the massive urge to stick his little nose into everything. Through this, he learned that the street wasn't water and could be stood on and that fire extinguishers were not edible. In between getting stuck to something or having something stuck to him, the pup let out more loud mews, still convinced that if he called long enough and loud enough, his mommy and daddy would respond.

But his calls were eventually responded to, just not in the way he desired. A Common groaned and hissed at the mewling sounds and began to follow it, a very vague but spiteful instinct urging him to track the insistent noise all the way to the source: Food. Two unprotected babies. Easy targets. He growled.

The Smoker looked up towards the growling sound and spotted a large figure. It wasn't nearly as tall as his daddy, but was imposing nonetheless. He didn't know why, but his cautiousness rose dramatically at the sight and he let out a whimpering little wheeze. The Hunter pup couldn't see what upsetting his friend, as his head was currently stuck in a small cardboard box he was sniffing in. Luckily, sight wasn't exactly his most important sense and he would hear and smell the stranger quite clearly. Recognizing it as a threat, both by instinct and from vague memories of his parents' past reactions to these particular creatures, he gave a defiant little growl in his best attempt at being scary. But even with a box covering his hooded head, he can tell that the 'unwittingly-being-adorable-when-trying-to-be-scary' tactic wasn't working, if he were to guess by the approaching footsteps. With that, he backed up with a whimper, his bravado leaving him in an instant. He felt his friend tugging his coat and this time, he knew exactly what it meant: The two infants high-tailed it out of there as fast as their little legs can go.

But it was very soon apparent who the faster one was. Although the Common and his kind had a reputation for mindlessness, he certainly knew how to give chase and how to be fast about it. The little one's were at a heavy disadvantage from the start, their clumsy little gaits no real match. In a few seconds, they'll be nothing more than a meal for the fellow Infected. It didn't help that the Hunter pup was weighed down and generally hindered by the box, but he continued to follow his friend via listening for the footsteps and the distinctive little coughs. But listening to footsteps and wheezing wasn't enough to properly sense obstacles and the pup tripped and stumbled to the ground. At least the fall removed the unwilling 'hat' on his head, but he was too dazed to take any sort of advantage.

All the pup could do was whimper as he looked up at the snarling Common, instinctively curling up as tightly as he could. He could hear the panicked cries of his friend, but there was nothing either of them could do. The Common took a swipe at the pup, who yelped and screamed loudly in response and the adult zombie was just about to give a strong kick to end the pup's life when a few other Commons ran over, attracted by the prospect of a kill. However, the original Common instinctively knew there would not be enough to go around and he grabbed the pup roughly, hissing and snarling as the others turned violent. The pup only cringed and whined as he was fought over, hurting all over as the Commons pulled at him and struck at each other.

Nearby, the young Smoker wanted to run, but hearing the distress cries of his comrade kept him glued to the spot. His own instincts were contradicting each other, confusing him even more. He wanted so badly to give his assistance, to do _something _to save the only companion he had left, but could do nothing but stay back and watch the chaos. Why did he have to be so small and helpless? Why can't he be big and strong and scary like his daddy? Unable to help himself, he began to sniffle and cry, hiccuping as the crystal clear image of his father and sister materialized in his brain, along with the fuzzy image of his mother. Holding in a louder wail, he almost didn't notice when their luck changed: in the scuffle, the Hunter pup was dropped and forgotten and the youngster made no hesitation in stumbling towards his friend.

Taking a moment to comprehend that he wasn't going to be alone after all, the Smoker began to cheer up and huggled his friend tightly, giving an infantile hum of delight. The pup was confused by the gesture and was going to give a questioning growl when they heard the screech of the fighting Commons. Maybe they should start running before their feuding predators gained focus... Turning tail, the babies went off again, the knowledge to avoid Commons now deeply embedded in their minds.

Slowing down after the scary monsters were out of sight, the baby Smoker went into a long-held coughing fit as the Hunter pup began sniffing around. It wasn't to explore as he was no longer in much of a mood to be curious. He just hadn't failed to notice that there was a familiar scent in the air, a _very_ familiar and reassuring scent. It smelled like comfort; it smelled like..._home_. And if he wasn't mistaken, he could smell his mommy too. With an excited squeak, he stumbled off, ignoring any lingering pain from his previous hostile encounter. That smell was just too wonderful to ignore and he wasn't going to let anything stop him from following it.

The young Smoker had just finished his little fit when he noticed the pup going off seemingly to nowhere. Tilting his head a bit, the confused Smoker hurried to catch up, cooing questionably. The pup responded with an even louder and more enthusiastic squeak as he made his way to a nearby alley way. By this time, the Smoker could smell an almost familiar scent. Almost, but not quite. Plus, there was the strong smell of blood, but given that everything smells like blood around here, that didn't seem like much of an issue. The Hunter certainly ignored that part of the scent as he turned the corner and cried out joyously. The Smoker, extremely hesitant but curious, poked his head around the corner to look at what was causing all this excitement. What he saw gave him a strange feeling of familiarity. Maybe because he lived in an alley too...or maybe because his mommy was laying there. No, wait, it wasn't his mommy. The smell was very similar, but very different. No, it was another Witch altogether. He felt heavily disappointed.

The Hunter pup was feeling the exact opposite. He felt elated to be back on familiar ground, back in his mother's presence. Through his excitement, he didn't seem to notice the large amounts of blood nor the trauma that has been inflicted. All he knew was that he had his mommy back and he snuggled into her. His glee making him ignore the unusual coolness of the body, he purred and cooed, nudging his mother's claws to encourage her to pet him in the loving way she always did. She didn't respond, of course, so he pushed himself under her hand, instinctively careful of the long daggers decorating each of her fingers. Nuzzling and licking the hand over him, he looked at his friend just outside the alley way and gave a delighted chirp. His friend didn't budge, still wary of the whole situation.

Unable to stay still for any length of time, the pup squirmed out from beneath the hand and curled up against his mother's neck, cuddling even more before rolling over to be groomed. But strangely, his mommy made no move to clean him. He gave a mew before pausing expectantly for her response. Still absolutely nothing. Maybe he needed to move to a better spot. He got back to his little hands and feet and shifted in front of his mommy's bloodied face before rolling over and mewing again. Silence. Why wasn't mommy doing anything? Maybe she's taking a nap. He should wake her up; grooming him was a necessity right now. The pup nudged and prodded at his mother, cooing and squeaking more and more insistently with each passing second. After a while, he tried a different tactic and backed up a bit, sitting down and mewing nonstop for attention.

The Smoker, having determined that there was no threat here, went closer into the alley and felt another sense of deja vu as he watched his comrade's attempts to wake the grown up. More devastating images of the incident came up in his mind: how he tried to wake up his daddy, staying for hours as he had continued his efforts, before instinct finally forced him to accept that daddy wasn't going to move, wasn't going to get up to reassure the frightened youngster, wasn't going to be with him anymore. That same instinct forced him to leave the area practically against his own will. Now, here he was, watching the exact same process all over again with this Hunter pup. His infantile mind couldn't really understand the fine details, of course, but that didn't stop the feeling of empathy towards his friend. Coughing a bit before giving a sad hum, the child wandered over to the mewing pup and grabbed that soft coat again, tugging.

The pup, having learned what that gesture meant not too long ago, was extremely reluctant...to say the least. He didn't wanna go now that he was home; he was going to stay here with his mommy! Growling in warning, the pup dug his little claws into the ground to stay put. But the Smoker was determined to leave and kept on tugging, eventually resorting to using his tongue. This was enough to budge the pup, who squirmed in panic before lashing out at the fellow baby, biting hard into his arm. The Smoker practically screamed and let the pup go, stumbling back onto his bottom and looking towards the pain. Green blood and spores came from the bite wound and the young Infected began to sniffle before glaring angrily at the pup. He got back up to his feet and then pushed the other baby over. The Hunter yelped, both in surprise and pain, before growling in an equal amount of anger. But the Smoker child already walked away into a corner deeper down the alley, plopping down into a sit with a heavy pouting expression.

The Hunter gave a tiny huff before righting himself and resuming his demanding mews, unwittingly opting to make himself learn the hard way. Luckily, his loud mews didn't attract Commons this time, but it _did_ alert someone to his presence...

Groaning, Rae woke up from her sleep, shifting in her sleeping bag before sitting up with a yawn. What time is it? Late, according to how dark it still was. Now, what was it that woke her up. Listening carefully, she heard a strange and unusual sound. What was that? Shifting out of her sleeping bag a bit, she looked about, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness before focusing on her friend. "Hey, Sparky..." she muttered sleepily. "Sparky..." Nothing. Shifting out of the bag some more, Rae reached out with her foot and poked her friend's inert body. "Sparks, wake up."

"Huh...?" Sparky responded, finally stirring from whatever dream she was having. "Is it breakfast time yet?"

"Nah. Do you hear that?" Rae responded with a stretch.

"Hear what?" Silence as the girls listened to the darkness. Each second felt like forever and Sparky was just about to doze back to sleep before: _Mew_..._Mew...Mew... _"What the hell...?" was her only response as she shifted out of her sleeping sack, Rae standing up completely as they both stared at the safe room door. After a few more minutes of hearing the mysterious sound, Sparky decided to speak what her conclusion of the source was. "It sounds like a kitten."

"A kitten?" Rae questioned logically. After all, what would a kitten be doing in a zombie apocalypse? If she wasn't mistaken, human children were mostly killed off by the disease, so wouldn't young animals be killed off too? Even if that wasn't the case, how can a kitten survive the world out there? Even a full grown cat would be small enough to find it nearly impossible. But then what else could be making such a noise? It was so kitten-like, there had to be no explanation... "Or maybe it's an Infected." she offered.

True, they've never met an Infected that sounded like _that_, but in a world practically swarming with them, it seemed highly possible. In the darkness, she hardly noticed as Sparky moved and when she realized that fact, the older member of the duo was already at the door. Immediately concerned of her friend's intentions, Rae walked over hastily and shook her head. "What're you doing, Sparky? You can't go out there." she said worriedly. Sparky looked back at her with a pleading face.

"I know, but what if there _is_ a kitten out there? We can't just leave it all alone, especially not when we're in the middle of the freakin' Holocaust."

Rae nodded as she knew that was true. Only a cold-hearted bastard would leave a defenseless little kitten to die out in this dangerous world, and she was certainly NOT a cold-hearted bastard. She was a friendly person with a love for animals that equalled that of her companion's. They had to help the poor little thing. It's probably cold and starving by now. "Okay, but be careful." she warned.

"I know. If it _is _an Infected, I'm prepared." Sparky grabbed her gun for emphasis, clicking the safety off and ready to shoot if this turned out to be nothing but a trap. With her now-armed friend having her back, she opened the door cautiously and peeked out and what she saw stunned her beyond belief, her voice barely managing a whisper. "O...M...G... Rae... Look..."

"What?" Rae asked, squeezing a bit passed her bud to see what the cause of the sudden mood change was. Catching sight of it, her mouth dropped as far down as it could, eyes wide. "Whoa..."

There was a mini Hunter sitting there in front of the Witch's body and it was the one making the mewing sounds. They couldn't believe it; a _baby_ Hunter. They didn't even know the undead could reproduce. Well, technically, the Infected were still alive, so maybe it was possible. They just never thought they'd come to a situation like this.

There was a cough and both the pup and the girls reacted at the same time. The humans raised their guns automatically, fingers set to squeeze the trigger. After all, coughing almost always equalled Smoker and their alarm was practically a reflex by now, despite the cough sounding a bit too high-pitched and childish. The pup, meanwhile, snapped his attention to the humans and cried out in alarm, stumbling to press against the Witch's body. Seeing that they were frightening the baby, Sparky took the risk to lower her weapon as Rae continued to scan the rooftops. Stepping completely from the safe room door, she lowered herself onto her knees and spoke softly, reaching a hand towards the pup.

"It's okay, we're not going to hurt you, little one." The pup growled in response, especially when Rae stepped out the safety of the door as well, still scanning.

"Careful, Sparks. I don't know anything about the ways of Infected parents, but I'm not doubting that the little guy has a mommy or daddy somewhere."

There was a few seconds of silence as Sparky studied the pup, who stayed huddled tightly against the Witch's body, and what her mind brought up made her feel a heavy sense of guilt. "Rae... I think this Witch _was_ his mommy..."

"Oh..." Rae muttered, lowering her gun too at the revelation. Wow, now they both felt like shit. They killed off a mother...and now the baby no doubt thought its parent was still going to protect it from them. That was a heartbreaking thought and Sparky scooted closer to the pup, who cringed back even more.

"Oh, baby, we're sorry... If we knew she was your mommy, then..." She didn't know what to say and it didn't seem to matter. The pup most likely didn't understand her. She scooted closer and reached out, taking the risk and taking gentle hold of the pup, picking him up as he squirmed and struggled with a cry. Immediately, there was another whine from deeper in the alley and Rae felt something wrap against her ankle. Gun ready for the Smoker, her eyes followed the tongue to...

"Sparky. There's another one." she said, pointing at the green smoke surrounding the tiny little figure. Sparky glanced over and saw the other baby before gently and carefully handing the still-squirming Hunter pup to her friend. Approaching the young Smoker, she saw it was backed into a corner, eye wide in fright at her approach. If anything, this little one looked even more frightened of them than the pup and she immediately went down to her knees to appear smaller and less threatening.

"Hey, there. Are you the little Hunter's brother?" she asked gently.

"I don't think so." Rae answered, coming over with the struggling pup in her arms before bending down to unwrap the tongue from her ankle. The appendage was surprisingly strong for it coming from such a little critter, but it was still relatively easy to remove from her leg. She then stood back up straight as the Hunter began to whimper. "If the Witch is the Hunter's mom, then the dad has to be a Hunter too...Right?"

"Makes sense." Sparky responded before looking back to the terrified Smoker. "No need to be scared, lil fella. We're friends." She reached out for him and the baby pushed himself even tighter against the corner, starting to cry before trying to retract his tongue for another attempt to defend himself. Sparky took the opportunity to pick him up, holding on to the wriggling infant. "Shhhhh... It's okay." Turning back to Rae, she gave another pleading look. "Can we keep them?"

Rae was taken aback. "Keep them? Sparky, these two aren't puppies or kittens. They're _Infected_ babies. They could still be dangerous." Something else popped into her mind and she casted a glance to the rooftops once more. "Besides, what about the Hunter's dad? Or the Smoker's parents? They could be nearby."

Quite unexpectedly, Sparky stupidly yelled into the distance. "HEY! IF THERE'S ANY SMOKERS OR HUNTERS AROUND, COME CLAIM YOUR BABIES!" she shouted as her friend facepalmed. How stupid can this girl get, yelling like that? Now every Infected within a 5 mile radius knew where they were. But Sparky seemed rather unfazed by this as she gave a goofy smile. "See? Nothing."

"Doesn't mean they aren't out there." Rae pointed out, sighing before looking down at the Hunter in her arms. The little guy had stopped struggling and was clinging to her arm like his life depended on it, clearly scared to death and not knowing what will become of them. She'll admit, despite the pain of the little one's claws pricking through her sleeve and skin, the tiny pup was adorable, especially when he looked up at her with a scared face and a horrified whimper. "Okay. We can keep them in the safe room for tonight. Hopefully, another Infected will take care of them soon, especially after your broadcast."

And again, quite abruptly: "OKAY, MR. HUNTER AND MR. SMOKER, WE'LL KEEP YOUR BABIES WITH US UNTIL WE FIND YOU!" Insert another facepalm from her friend.

"Would you please stop that?"

"My bad." Sparky responded sheepishly before smiling. "Thanks, Rae. I'd huggle you, but both our hands are full." She looked down at the Smoker, who stopped his struggles as well and was staring wide eyed at the Hunter pup, clinging to her arm with his little hands and tongue. "I'm gonna name you...Ace." That was one of her most preferred names; before the Infection, she named some of her OCs that and she also given her bicycle that name. Nothing was stopping her from applying the title to this cute little guy. She returned her gaze to Rae. "Are you gonna name the Hunter?"

"You do know we're not keeping them long, right? Just for the night." Giving another sigh, she looked down at the Hunter, still reluctant about keeping Infected in the safe room. The pup whined and whimpered before quite unexpectedly cuddling tight against her. She couldn't keep back a smile at the general cuteness and she nodded. "I'm gonna name him Tao." That was the name of the dog she used to own. And since Hunters are so dog-like as it is, it made sense to give the little pup such a significant name.

And it seemed the babies were already warming up to them, as both were snuggling tightly into their respective human carriers. But that cuddling was not without good reason. Snarls, groans, and hisses rose up as the girls finally sensed the Commons that were no doubt racing their way, lured by Sparky's previous outbursts. The two girls wasted no time in going back into the safe room, slamming the door into the first of the zombie's face and putting the babies down to secure the entrance before they both sighed. That was a close one. Looking about for the babies, they found them huddled together in a corner, shivering as they stared in the direction of the two girls. Both humans tried to look as gentle as they could as they slowly walked towards the two, Rae actually going down to all fours to resemble a Hunter a little bit better. But the babies were not fooled and they both screamed as they held each other tight, cringing as they waited for the humans to eat them.

The girls sighed, knowing their advances were only frightening the young ones more. Sparky looked over to Rae, hoping she would have an idea to help, but the 'leader' of the duo merely shook her head. "Maybe it's for the best. Probably shouldn't teach them to like humans, just in case their families arrive or something." Sparky reluctantly nodded, standing back up and flopping down on her sleeping bag; she couldn't decide if she was still sleepy or not. The other girl looked towards the safe room door. Commons were still hissing and growling as they reach inside in vain, but they'll begin to disperse sooner or later for an easier meal. Grinning as she watched them, she turned her attention to her roommate, putting on a serious face.

"And this is _not_ your fault, right?" Rae said, both playfully and sarcastically. Sparky instantly responded with a beam as she got up to mini glomp her friend.

"Nope nope nope!"

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><p>Again, I intended this to be a present for the holiday (Mother's Day), but again, I'm way late. *sigh* Oh well, at least the chapter was submitted and that's what really matters. In other news, I put up a link on my profile leading to a drawing of the little babies. You can check it out if ya want.<p>

Anyway, Happy (late...again) Mother's Day everyone!


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